I don’t lose. Not wars. Not contracts. And sure as hell not women who belong to me. She thinks she’s hiring a bodyguard.
A fake match to keep her enemies off her back while she rebuilds her daddy’s empire. What she doesn’t know? The minute I saw her, the bond snapped into place. Primal. Permanent. Mine.
She smells like legacy and power and the kind of soft I want to ruin slow. And now that I’ve tasted what it’s like to hold her? No force in the galaxy can keep me from finishing what I started.
Enemies line up like they’ve forgotten what a Reaper-class hybrid does to liars. I burn their worlds. I leave their names in ash.
And I protect what’s mine—even if it means dragging her back to bed in the middle of a board meeting. I’m not her boyfriend. I’m her hostile takeover.
Read on for fake mating, forced proximity, fated bonds, primal possession, and a 7-foot alien protector who does one thing better than kill—claim. HEA Guaranteed!
